When the Turkish prime minister sits down in Berlin today with the German chancellor, Gerhard Schröder, and the French president, Jacques Chirac, he is determined to speak his mind.

"I will stress the importance of the historical relations we have with these countries," Recep Tayyip Erdogan said. "I will emphasise the depth of our economic, political, military and cultural relations."

Mr Erdogan is disappointed by the French and German hostility to the prospect of Turkish membership of the EU.

While Mr Chirac and Mr Schröder support Turkey's bid, a poll last month showed that the majority of French people would oppose Turkey's accession if asked to vote on it, and in Germany the opposition Christian Democrat leader, Angela Merkel, has come out categorically against Turkish membership.

"I see hurt in my people. This [negative reaction] was not expected," Mr Erdogan said in an interview at his home overlooking the Bosphorus, the waterway that separates Europe from Asia.

"France has around $5.5bn [£2.9bn] worth of investment in Turkey, nearly as much as Germany.

"Both have factories here and thousands of Turks work in them. Even in our architecture, you can see the influence of France, and there are French words in our language."

Today's talks come as Turkey's Islamic-oriented government is stepping up its campaign to increase support for its application to join the EU.

After 40 years of being kept at Europe's door, Turkey regards the next seven weeks, leading up to the EU's decision on whether to open negotiations, as crucial for the country. Turks, said Mr Erdogan, were undoubtedly frustrated that the country's fate could one day hang on the result of a French referendum.

"I believe prejudices have arisen because [Europeans] don't really know Turkey. Maybe there has been some kind of miscommunication between us."

Once a poor "semi-democracy" on the fringes of Europe, Turkey has changed immeasurably under the neo-Islamists. Since Mr Erdogan's AK party swept to power, casting aside the old ruling class with an unprecedented landslide victory, hundreds of long-overdue laws and reforms have been passed.

The country's 12 million Kurds have been granted linguistic and cultural rights; the death penalty has been abolished; torture officially banned; and an archaic penal code revised to meet European standards.

"We have zero tolerance for torture," Mr Erdogan said. "I know [about torture]. I have paid a price," he snapped, referring to his own stint in prison in 1998 for publicly reciting a poem that was deemed to incite religious hatred.

Under scrutiny

"Over the last two years we have not stopped a second with the EU harmonisation laws. None of these changes could have been accepted, or imagined, five years ago."

Since the EU commission finally decided earlier this month that Turkey had done its homework, it was only fair that negotiations should be allowed to start, he said.

With three-quarters of Turkey's 70 million people backing their country's quest to join, many were pinning their hopes on Mr Erdogan's charisma eventually carrying the day.

"If he goes on like this and takes Turkey into Europe he will be viewed as the greatest statesman this country has produced since Kemal Ataturk [modern Turkey's founder]," said Fehmi Koru, a columnist with the newspaper Yeni Safak. But 22 months in power has also taken a toll on the former professional footballer. He has puffy bags under his eyes and looks exhausted.

"I sleep six hours a day, that's the only time I relax," he admitted with a sigh.

From their first day in office, the Islamists have been under scrutiny, not only abroad, but also at home.

Many in Turkey's secular elite still regard the religious-minded party, made from the ruins of two Islamist groups previously banned by the army-dominated establishment, as suspicious.

Although the leader makes a point of publicly distancing himself professionally from his religion, the stories of his days as a hardline Islamist - when he would recoil at the idea of even shaking a woman's hand - are still legendary. Few have forgotten how as mayor of Istanbul he tried to ban alcohol from local municipalities.

"Tayyip Erdogan has learned to be liberal," the political scientist Ahmet Evin says.

"He's now ideologically committed to the EU and that's very good for Turkey, but the bottom line is that he is also a streetwise kid."

In some ways Mr Erdogan's upbringing as the son of a stern sea captain in Istanbul's Kasimpasa slum has kept him close to the people. His present home, a collection of nondescript family flats in the lower-middle-class area of Emniyet, stands opposite a pastry shop and barber.

Mindful of his own childhood days selling sesame rings in Kasimpasa, he still hands out sweets and toys to passing children in the streets.

"Have you seen them?" he enthused as a group of kids scrambled after a box of chocolates outside his home.

But his socially conservative bent, seen most noticeably in his recent and bizarre insistence that adultery should be banned, has also caused concern.

With the exception of the adultery debacle - he was forced to back down in the face of European pressure - Mr Erdogan has so far exhibited restraint, reining in his own instinctive predilections for fear of further alienating secularists.

As long as the prospect of EU membership is dangled before Turkey, analysts believe, he will continue to adopt moderate policies and keep conservative traditionalists at bay.

Outside his private office, among the Islamic art that lines the walls, the prime minister has hung a photograph of cherry blossoms that spell out this message: "There is nothing permanent except change."

"Give Turkey three years," he said "and it will be a totally different country. Whatever happens we are going to change."